No Good Deed Goes Unpunished
by Waves Crash
Summary: Something isn't quite right with the Good Witch of the South. There's a constant burning in her chest, and she cannot determine quite what is causing this pain. It has everybody worried sick. As Glinda's health takes a turn for the worse, Oz itself seems to fall into disarray as their king is distracted. Will the mysterious burning be solved before it's too late? Ozinda (Oz/Glinda)
1. Chapter 1

(I'm updating Mail Call soon, but this...I needed to write this, or I would cry. Legit. Unfortunately, I do not own Oz, the Great And Powerful, or any of the characters, unless mentioned.)

The mirror was very clear today, almost like water, still water. In the mirror, long and oval, was reflected a most fair and beauteous witch, her hair long and blonde, falling in soft curls around the sides of her face, and glimmering hazel-green eyes framed by thick black eyelashes. The figure was tall and thin and draped in white, like a princess, and a golden crown rested on her curls to match the image of princess.

Still, the Good Witch Glinda was not pleased.

Something had changed within her, she decided, after surveying herself in the looking glass for a few minutes more. Something was not the same, and it wasn't a good feeling at all. Lately, her chest, directly below her left shoulder, felt odd. Glinda was not a fool, and she knew this feeling could be very bad, very bad indeed. Of course, she reasoned with herself, it could also be good, and she wasn't helping matters by thinking negatively about it.

As these berating thoughts passed through her mind, an aching, throbbing sensation flared in the very spot she thought of; a burning, as if someone - Theodora, possibly - had hit her with a fireball. With a cry, she knelt to the ground, both hands covering the spot as if it would do any good. A commotion was heard outside the common room, the room that lead to both the rest of the palace and Glinda's, Oscar's, and China Girl's personal chambers. Shortly after, a rather rumpled looking monkey with a scuffed, singed teal bellhop uniform and a brassy set of feathered wings burst into the room.

"Glinda, are you quite alright?" the flying monkey Finley asked, worry evident in his dark blue eyes. Glinda hurriedly stood up from the floor and brushed herself off, a look of consternation playing on her features. The pain was gone as quickly as it had come, and this disconcerted her greatly.

"Yes, Finley, I am fine," she replied gracefully, her expression already smoothing over into her usual cordiality. Finley gave her a concerned look, but did not push any farther.

"If you need anything, I'm only a breath away," he said, his voice filled with eagerness to serve. Glinda smiled slightly to herself as he fluttered out the door, pulling it closed with his tail as he left. Oscar had really lucked out on chancing across this one of a kind monkey. He had been the first to learn about Oscar's discrepancy masquerading as wizard, yet stayed loyal.

The smile stayed on her face as her thoughts turned to Oscar. That man, although corrupted, had grown up into a true hero. The smile became almost dreamy as she imagined him now: tall, wizardly, devilishly handsome, and-

~O~

"Singed?" she questioned, her voice stern. The Great and Powerful Wizard of Oz, his hands clasped guiltily in front of him, shrugged, sending the spirals of smoke emitting from his jacket askew.

"I was just testing out the projector and then I accidentally knocked it over and...long story short it caught on fire, and I happened to be there," Oscar said, his tone dripping with cynicism. Glinda sighed and surveyed the man. She couldn't help but chuckle, a smile creasing her lips once more.

"The Great and Powerful Oz, defeated by a projector," she giggled, as she snuffed out the smoldering places on his jacket with just a breath of mist from her finger. Oscar shrugged modestly.

"What can I say? The tools of a wizard are much more magical than the wizard himself, in some cases."

Glinda chuckled as she examined the damage done to his jacket.

"You've ruined it," she announced. "Another beautiful thing, gone. How saddening."

Oscar stepped a little closer to the witch, causing a strawberry blush to flow to her cheeks.

"But not the most beautiful thing," he countered. "That, would be you."

Glinda blushed even more. "Oh," she murmured. "You flatter me so."

Oscar smiled, and before Glinda knew it, his lips were on hers, warm and soft. Her eyes closed and-

"Oh," she cried, pulling away abruptly and clutching at her chest. The burning pain in her chest was worse this time, and she hissed slightly to voice her pain, only in the slightest. Oscar bent down to her level, a wild worry in his eyes.

"Are you okay?" he questioned. Her eyes screwed shut, Glinda nodded, rising back to standing with her expression still quite contorted. The pain seemed to linger in her chest, fading considerably, but with a continuing aftermath. Forcing a smile to her face, she opened her eyes wide, pulling a perfectly normal expression to her face.

"Just fine, just fine."

A voice called through the door, accompanied by a pounding noise of knocking.

"Wizard!" it called. "Wizard, we fixed the projector. You can come back now."

Oscar sighed, and looked to Glinda worriedly.

"Are you sure you're okay?" he asked again, his eyes searching hers. With a start, Glinda realized she was still clutching at the spot. She forced her hands to her sides, balled up into fists.

"Just fine," she smiled. "Go, Wizard."

After the door closed, she sat down with an audible sigh. Something was not quite right. This burning could only be bad, she decided, and she needed to figure out just what was going on.

(Would anyone believe that was the first time I have ever written a kiss? No? Well, it was, and it wasn't too bad, was it? I'm super excited for this :3 Hasta luego! Update soon!)


	2. Chapter 2

(I was shocked to find I had actually gotten reviews so quickly! I love you all! And unfortunately, I do not own Oz The Great and Powerful or any characters. Oz and Glinda would have gotten married in the movie if I did.)

The night was fitful. The Good Witch Glinda tossed and turned all night. She felt as if her silky sheets were entangling, strangling her, in her thoughts. The burning pain in her chest did not return, thankfully. Glinda had the premonition that it would only worsen in pain, and she did not think she could avoid screaming. Waking people up would be a bad idea, for how would the Wizard be a good leader if he hadn't gotten sleep? He was only next door, she knew. Her thoughts eventually began to blur as the minutes ticked by and before she knew it, Glinda the Good Witch had found sleep at last.

~O~

Instead of her usual graceful awakening, Glinda found herself roughly being shaken awake. Her eyes flying open, her bleary vision locking on the three worried faces looking down at her.

"What? What's wrong? Is everything alright?" she groaned, pushing herself into a sitting position. China Girl's eyes were filled with worry.

"You've been screaming for the last few hours," she said, her voice scared as she pulled herself onto the single bed beside Glinda, who was putting a hand to her throat and startled to find it incredibly sore. Oscar, looking rather grouchy in his emerald green nightcap - which had been Glinda's choice, clearly - , stood in the doorway beside Finley. Finley had an interestingly amused expression on his face, as if someone had told him a funny joke. He kept glancing at Oscar, and snickering into his hands. Oscar scowled at him, and turned his attention back to Glinda.

"Did you have nightmares or something?" he inquired. Glinda shook her head, wide eyed.

"No, I didn't dream at all..." she began to say, and then found herself cut off by a strange sensation tickling up her throat, and-

__Suddenly the Good Witch Glinda was doubled over, her entire form shaking hard as violent coughs filled the room. Finley fluttered over to her, putting a hand comfortingly on her back. When her coughing spurt was over, she looked up at the three visitors, tears of effort in her eyes. They all looked right back at her, masks of fear and worry.

"You're sick," Oscar announced, turning to leave. Glinda did not know how to feel. She hadn't ever BEEN sick before. Illness was just a notion for her, for all witches, really. It never happened, and last she knew, she and her sisters were immune. So how could she be sick, now?

"Get dressed," Oscar said, his voice one of brisk business. "I'm taking you to see a doctor of some kind."

For some reason, this bothered Glinda greatly. Was she only business? She thought he had changed...Her face grew solemn, as if she were going to cry, but directly before the first tear fell, a thought occured to her.

_You're overreacting. He just said he's taking you to the doctor. And you're going to cry like a petulant child because he's not acting like a fawning puppy? He's not like other people. He's special. He doesn't mean it in a cruel way, _Glinda reasoned with herself as Oscar and Finley left the room. She slid out of bed, her bare feet touching the cold stone floor.

"Glinda?"

The good witch turned to see China Girl, looking up at her with glassy, scared eyes of a child.

"Yes?" she answered softly, a light smile on her lips.

"You're going to be okay, aren't you?" China girl asked. "I don't want to lose another family member..."

Glinda's heart broke for the animated doll. She knelt on the floor in front of China Girl, taking her tiny porcelain hands in her own.

"Of course I shall be okay," she asserted. "I won't go anywhere."

"Promise?" China Girl pleaded.

"Promise."


	3. Chapter 3

"Did you honestly understand a word of that?" Oscar asked, his expression rumpled. Glinda sighed as the pair walked the short distance from the Emerald City's physician's home to the palace.

"That physician was a Quadling physician. Not everybody here speaks the same language, you know. You should probably try to learn-"

The Good Witch began to cough, and stopped in her tracks, her hands covering her mouth instinctively as she coughed. She had to close her eyes, tears trickling out from beneath her lashes as her throat became too raw and agonizing to even produce a whisper of a word.

By the time she found a lapse in the all painful coughing, she looked up and found herself sitting in the common room. With a great dizzying, lurching sensation, she put her head in her hands. A clinking noise ensued from far away. Glinda found herself being handed something - what was it? A cup of tea? - and a low voice, presumably Oscar's, telling her to drink it. With a shiver, she took the cup and did so.

The tea tasted almost thick, and overly sweet. Glinda couldn't help smiling slightly as she put the cup down. Honey. She hadn't tasted that in a while, and, as she felt the soothing liquid on her roughed up throat, she was grateful for it. She turned to see Oz, standing near the couch she found herself sitting on.

"How-" she paused. Her voice was all scratchy. She swallowed hard. Her voice had never been like this before. Would it go away? Would it stay forever? Would she become Glinda the Good Witch of the South with No Voice? This worried her immensely. How was she supposed to communicate with everyone?

Oscar smiled wanly at her.

"You started coughing, and couldn't stop, and couldn't walk any farther. So I borrowed a carriage from someone and that is how we got here. Funny how people don't give you carriages when they don't know you're the wizard, because you're not a bunch of fire and smoke."

Glinda giggled slightly, more of a sight than a sound due to the fact that the thought of using her voice up terrified her.

"So now, it is..." He glanced towards the darkened windows. "Probably around six o clock." His expression grew very concerned. "You were coughing almost nonstop for almost two hours."

Glinda's hand flew to her throat, which certainly agreed with the statement. Oscar nodded grimly.

"So now, stay here, I'll be right back. Apparently dinner happened without The Great and Powerful Oz and Glinda the Good Witch."

With a smirk and a traditional flare of red smoke, he had sneaked out the door, leaving it to slam closed with a dull thud. Glinda sighed and leaned back against the couch. What was going to happen to her? Suddenly, a fiendish desire for something flooded her mind and sent her scrambling to her feet.

"Wand, wand, wand," she whispered to herself as she dashed half dizzily to her own door, only a few paces away. She exhaled deeply, relieved to see it resting on her neatly made bed. Gliding over to take it, she noticed something tied to it. Something not supposed to be there.

A letter? Pulling the heavy vellum off of her delicate instrument, she unfurled the tiny scroll. Illuminated only by moonlight filtering into her unlit chambers, she began to read the terrifyingly familiar, overly elaborate handwriting.

_Did you really think that we were going to take a chance? We knew there was a chance you'd escape. That's always how it seems to work. So we gave you a little gift, just in case. Remember how painful that lightning was, dearest sister? Do you recall? We know you do. That was special lightning thought up just for our beloved sister. It came with a little plague, just a minor one, really. Well, it might have been minor before we played with it a little, anyways. There is no cure. No doctor has heard of it. It will just get worse and worse until your little life is snuffed out like a candle in a twister. And your precious Wizard won't do well either, watching the person he loves fade away. On the whole, this is entirely too long in coming. Enjoy life while you can, sister, because you won't have too much of it left. We'll make sure of that._

Glinda's breathing had all but stopped. Her heart beat so loudly she thought it was going to burst right out of her chest. She heard footsteps, the clinking of silverware, and then more footsteps, closing in.

Oscar stood in the doorway, his expression on of faint annoyance.

"I told you to stay put," he said. Then he noticed the expression on Glinda's face.

"What happened?"

"I...I..." she couldn't form anything else, her expression stricken. Without another word, she handed him the paper.


	4. Chapter 4

"So let me get this straight...One or both of your sisters somehow snuck past all the guards and left this death threat with the intel that they zapped you with some uncurable disease?"

The Wizard of Oz turned to face Glinda. A slight sheen of sweat shone visible on his face, whether it had been from worry or pacing, Glinda did not know. She nodded in confirmation.

"Yes."

The Great and Powerful Oz suddenly did not look so great and powerful. Something about him seemed to fade, and Glinda found herself looking at a mortal man, a mortal man with clear dismay in his eyes. He sat down on the sofa beside her, his eyes on her. Glinda knew she must look terrified, weak, some reflection of how she felt. That seemed not to be the case, according to the Wizard's response.

"How are you so calm about this?" He asked, his voice low. "You're going to die."

Glinda gulped, sending him what she hoped was a steely glare. In the past few days, her expressions seemed to be out of her control, so she had not the slightest inkling of her facial appearance. Thankfully, he wilted accordingly.

"A bit harsh," she reprimanded, imbuing her voice with as much serenity and control as she could. "They could be bluffing, you know. Telling me I'm going to die, blaming the aftereffects of being beaten and tortured in public-" both parties winced at the reminder. "Trying to throw the whole land off balance..." She trailed off, not voicing her final thought.

"Trying to throw me off balance," Oscar murmured. Glinda looked down into her lap, where her hands rested, clasped. He looked at her knowingly. As if in explanation, she began to babble, already feeling heat rising to her face as she turned to face him.

"Well, you see, Evanora showed Theodora that we were talking - I know because she left her scrying sphere and the memory of the images were there, she saw some very strange things - that is to say, Theodora seems to think that you're completely in love with me, and of course that's ridiculous because you've known me for what, a month, and I don't take you for someone who falls in love very easily-"

Glinda could feel her cheeks growing redder and redder with each word. This wasn't how she normally was, how she normally spoke. Blast her sisters for throwing her off tilt, now ruining what she had considered a masterful display of long running eloquence on her part. She knew that she had fumbled a lot of things up, and this made the Good Witch of the South very, very nervous. What if he suddenly stopped talking to her, or something, because she said he didn't fall in love easily? What if he took that to offense?

"Glinda..." His expression was unreadable.

She braced herself.

"Is it that ridiculous?"

This took Glinda by surprise.

"Is what ridiculous?"

Oscar looked at her, a strangely devilish gleam in his eyes. This gleam made Glinda's heart flutter, and she felt like smacking herself.

"Is it ridiculous to fall completely in love with someone after a month?"

Glinda's eyes widened, and she turned her face downwards to examine her feet. He was implicating her, that much she knew. She felt as if she were betraying herself. Here she was, with a possibly very limited lifespan, and she was talking about the possibility of love after a short time of knowing each other. She didn't know, really. Glinda was seen as the figurehead, the quintessence of purity and goodness, and thus hadn't indulged in any romantic endeavors. It would be a complete debacle for the citizens of Oz, who looked up to her as their good conscience, who always made the right decision, to become romantically involved with some random person that they didn't know. In a way, she supposed, they were like her children. And she wasn't about to go and shatter the 'mother' image by satisfying her own petty desires.

But, she reasoned, with herself, this wasn't just anyone. This was the Great and Powerful Oz. The king of the country, the savior...the father of them all, in a sense.

So would it be bad if Glinda and Oscar had a relationship?

These thoughts were just too much for Glinda's very conflicted mind. She couldn't come up with an answer, not now. Shaking her head as if to clear it, she stood up, avoiding his searching gaze.

"I...We...Just..." she gave up on giving him a straight answer, and started a new sentence, her tone coming across as emotionless as a statue and as eloquent as she was used to being. "I cannot talk about this now. There is too much happening at once. I need to think, I need to think about my current situation before I answer your question."

Oscar opened his mouth to retaliate, his generically suave expression faltering only for a moment into something resembling hurt. Before he could say one word, Glinda cut him off, making for the door to her chamber. Pausing in the doorway, she turned around to face him, her heart breaking just slightly.

"Please leave me to my thoughts," she whispered, and closed the door quietly, leaving the common room in pure and desolate silence.


	5. Chapter 5

(I have no life. Third chapter in the span of today. Waaaaow. Do you guys even want me to continue this?...I would continue anyways, but I just want to know what you all think.)

A single candle illuminated the room that night. The only sound was one of feverish scratching of a feather quill and the slightly ragged breathing of a not quite healthy person.

_Dear Journal,_

_What is going on with my life? I have so much to think about all at once. This is overwhelming. I can't talk to Oscar about my problems, because he happens to be one of them. That just would be unacceptable. I can't talk to Finley, because he's a monkey that's glued to Oscar's side at all times. There's no knowing what he would say to Oscar to gain his favor. Not that I doubt Finley's loyalty to me, but I doubt that it would overrule his first and foremost loyalty to him. I have no kin of whom I can talk to - Theodora hates me with a passion because of Evanora's conniving and persuasion, which may or may not have been fairly accurate. Evanora is obviously out, for those reasons as well. I have no parents anymore. China Girl is probably my closest chance to pure confidentiality, but she's a child and thinks of Oscar as her father. Fathers and mothers seem to have equal standing, and she prefers him over me. So that's not an option either. So here I am, writing to you._

_My first problem is that of Oscar. I choose this as my first one because there is so much more to say, and it is so much easier to think about than the second or third problems. I am not sure how he feels for me, truly. I don't quite understand love, not in the romantic notion anyway. Yes, Theodora and Evanora have had their brief flirtations, but I have always refrained. This kind of love is unknown to me. Yet, I think I might be feeling it. But it feels too early to declare love. He was a charmer before, moving from woman to woman like he did Theodora to Evanora to me. How am I to know that the next time some Gillikin maiden waltzes by, that he won't completely and utterly forget about me? ...I know he has changed, journal, but I don't want to get my hopes up too soon. There's still time for a relapse. But I just keep having all of these...feelings, like my heart skipping beats and blushing a lot whenever he's around. Yes, I have kissed him. That is monumental for me; my first kiss, actually, was with him, as was my second. But how important was it to him? I do not think I can deny myself and my feelings much longer. It would not be terrible to have a relationship with the King of Oz. In fact, the people of Oz might actually approve and support such a relationship, given the opportunity. I do not know how I would feel about that. But that might not be a problem given enough time. Such a morbid thought._

_And that gives me a perfect segway into my next issue, and possibly the most troublesome of them all. I, journal, am dying. At least, according to my sisters. And they want me dead so badly, I don't think they would bother lying and then killing me off later. They aren't that tricky. Clever, yes, but not obscenely smart about going about their clever ruses. So according to them, my death is relatively imminent, and judging by the fiery passion of hate they have for me, it will no doubt be painful. I am already developing symptoms, I think. My apparent night terrors, where I don't recall dreaming but scream my lungs out; strange, long winded coughing fits, and this awful, sporadic, heart burning. I don't know how Evanora and Theodora did it, but this is an extreme work of dark magic. This cannot end well. I tell Oscar that they're bluffing. I must act completely fine, as if I am not dying. Possibly, I shall forge another letter describing it is fake, and pretend it was intercepted by one of the Winkie guards. That would go against almost all of my morals, though...decisions, decisions._

_This leads me to my final imbroglio. Without me, the goodness that is this country will not be maintained. Oscar has improved drastically from what he once was, but he hasn't had the needs of a whole country on his shoulders since childhood. He won't be able to fully manage it, and with Evanora and Theodora still on the loose, I fear Oz will become a dark shadow of what it once was. _

_I have come to a decision, with this vastly helpful session of penning my thoughts to paper._

_I must find a successor as soon as possible._


	6. Chapter 6

(I seriously love you all. Your feedback makes my heart grow three sizes! By the way, my life has gotten better. Why, you ask? You must wait until the end of the chapter to find out. It is Oz related.)

"A successor?"

Glinda's face was smooth and emotionless as she stood in front of the quite ominous projection of the Wizard of Oz. The smoky apparition looked down at the picturesque figurine, an expression of exasperation on his expanded features.

"I don't believe you should be overly surprised," she said, her tone careless. "If my sisters are to be believed, I am going to die." She ignored the slight flinch that the smoky projection displayed, and kept her eyesight vague and not focused on any particular thing, lest she come across as a liar or as a guilty person. Neither of which she was, but she knew the symptoms all too well. She continued, holding her wand close to her chest as if fearing it would be snatched from her very fingers - her cold, dead fingers. She gulped at the thought. "And although you have greatly changed from what you were to what you are, I know you are not strong enough to make sure every single Ozian - meaning each and every Quadling, Winkie, and Munchkin - is happy." Her tone softened from the sharp, severe voice it had risen to inadvertantly. She turned to face the slightly insulted projection. The smoke died down and the flames crackling cheerfully amidst the darkening topic of discussion. A voice, so small and meek compared to the overly magnified one that had just spoken, rose, slightly muffled by the thick green and black curtain.

"I don't think we should get so ahead of ourselves, Glinda. I think we might just want to play it by ear?" the voice queried, pleading evident in its tone. Glinda sighed, and glided gracefully over to the curtain, pulling it aside to reveal a most downtrodden Wizard. He looked up at her with his dark brown eyes, in a way that was slightly reminiscent of a sad puppy. Glinda felt herself melting only slightly, like chocolate left out in the sun for a little too long. She put her hand to his cheek, a tiny part of herself screaming that this was NOT the time to get attached, despite the inevitable attraction. He looked up, a shine of hopefulness, that she was going to tell him she wouldn't find a form of apprentice to take over when she was gone, that everything would be okay. She hesitated. Encouraged, he stood up, catching her hand as she started to pull away and holding it there. She hesitated again, and then exhaled sharply and turned away, pulling her hand gently out of his grip.

"No," she finally said, her lilting voice cracking discordantly. "No. This is not the time, not the time for this."

She refused to turn back and face him. But that did not compute with the ever brazen Oscar of Oz. Just as Glinda's hand was about to completely leave Oscar's and plummet through the air to her side, he caught her hand, causing her to turn around. Her heart broke for what felt like the thousandth time at the expression, one of sadness and anger and great loss.

"When is the time, Glinda? Huh?" He pulled her closer to him, taking her other hand in his own. His voice dropped to a low murmur. "When will there be time? We need to talk about..." He searched for a word. "Whatever this is."

Glinda could feel an icy hot pain behind her eyes, and knowing this as a signal of imminent tears, she pulled her hands out of his grasp once more, barely able to look at what she knew was the most rejected expression imaginable on his face. She could feel her lower lip trembling. She needed to get out of here before she completely broke down. She could never cry, she had learned this as a child. If she did, there would be no stopping anyone. They could get anything out of her, she would be so upset. The few tears she had shed when she had thought Oscar dead was the most she had cried in a good five years, and that was only remedied by the sudden resurfacing of Oscar's projection. This could not go on any longer.

"There's no time anymore," she said, wincing slightly at the very noticable tremor in her voice. "I need a successor. With or without your blessing. Because when I go, I don't want the people of Oz to flounder." She paused, taking a deep breath to steady herself. "I don't want you to flounder either."

Without waiting one more second, she walked away, the sound of her shoes clicking on the emerald colored floor the only sound in the awkward silence left behind. Not a tear was shed.

~O~

"What does it say?"

"Somebody tell me what it says!"

"Can you read it to me?"

This was just a mere sample of the clamor outside the Emerald Palace approximately three hours later. Finally, after much more racuous noise from the overexcited Ozians, a blaring fanfare filled the air.

"Alright, okay, move away everyone, I'll read it!"

A short man with curly gray eyebrows, a beard to match, and cocoa skin pushed his way through the crowd, carrying a gleaming brass bugle. Snatching the proclamation off of the palace door, Knuck's cynical eyes squinted to make out the flowery cursive. Setting his bugle down, he announced loudly,

"It is decreed by The Good Witch Glinda of the South..."

The crowd of Ozians all hushed with bated breath, watched the Munchkin with gleaming eyes, excited to hear from their fair lady.

"It is decreed that she will take on an apprentice, for undisclosed reasons. She will be interviewing them personally, and anyone that I deem fit to see her will be let through, none other."

He frowned.

"This sounds really...really...not Glinda," he muttered to himself. The Ozians however, did not hear him. They were off to spread the exciting news. They were not stupid; they knew what an apprentice did when their master passed. But they did not think it to be so soon coming.

"More the better," Glinda murmured to herself, her expression one of stoicalness as she watched from her lonely balcony. And as hard as she listened, she did not hear any knocking on her door, the knocking she so desperately wanted to hear.

* * *

(Okay, here you all are, and here you'll all stay! Actually I think that was an original Glinda line...strange. Anyways!

"Williams co-starred with James Franco in Walt Disney Pictures's _Oz the Great and Powerful_, a 3-D prequel released March 8, 2013.

She has signed to do a sequel to it."

What is air. Omg. Well I hope you all enjoyed that, and this chapter, and tell me what you thought in a lovely review!)


	7. Chapter 7

(Prepare to be astounded by my very insane, crazy, and hopefully completely unexpected plot twists! PREPARE TO BE AMAZED! ZIMZALABIM! By the way, **I don't own Oz or it's amazingess.** This chapter shall be more Oscar centric, since I have been doing A LOT of just Glinda angst. Gotta see all sides of the story.

**Also!** Do not fret, my dearest darling Ozinda lovers! You shall get your coveted romance! Although it might not be exactly the way you wanted it. Mwahaha.)

Oscar's face was tomato red.

This was a totally, completely new sensation. Never once did he remember being so utterly humiliated. Not when Annie had told him she was going to marry another man, not when he was unable to make that little girl at the magic show walk, not even throughout his many failures in the short time he had spent in the enchanting land of Oz. He had been rejected many times in his life as a womanizer, true. But the women had not meant anything to Oscar, and he had simply shrugged and walked away each time.

But this woman was different.

Oscar covered his face with his hand, blocking out the bright sunlight filtering in through the stained glass windows surrounding the pentagonal shaped throne room as he slumped down in his throne.

He couldn't control what Glinda did. Yes, he was the King of Oz, and by rights she was the Queen. He had initially, even if it was just for a moment, that they would have been the King and Queen - together. She had seemed almost infatuated with him after they had defeated Evanora and Theodora, in her own discreet way of infatuation - as a womanizer, he had grown adept at reading women and how they were around men, and Glinda was definitely a new person to romance. But, he considered, what if she was more infatuated with what he had done than he himself?

No, that couldn't be right. Oscar couldn't let himself believe that it was the true answer. She had told him on a few occasions (including, as he had to loosen his collar slightly, just before they had kissed in the projection room) that she had knew he had goodness in him all along, and that she had believed in him the whole time. Did that mean anything?

Oscar felt inclined to slap himself. What was he, a lovestruck girl? He needed to stop agonizing over Glinda. As ethereal and dignified as he was, she probably had her bad days too. Another desire to slap himself occurred. She wasn't having a bad day.

"You are an idiot," he groaned to himself. Here Oscar was, sitting on his throne, refusing anyone who tried to come in, and the lady - for he had decided woman was too generic of a term for such a unique person - that he had feelings for, maybe (he considered briefly), maybe even _loved, _was going to die. Here he was, as the giant buffoon, agonizing over whether she loved him back, and all she wanted was to ensure that when she died, the country she had taken care of would go on just the same.

Pushing himself to his feet, he yelled,

"Hey! Finley!"

When there was no instantaneous response, he attempted the name he had used in previous days to try and retrieve the flying monkey's attention.

"Monkey! Hey, Monkey!"

True to form, he heard a crashing sound, and the inner doors burst open to reveal a very ruffled Finley, his bellhop uniform even more askew than it usually was. The monkey hopped, skipped, and glided over to Oscar, hovering a few feet in front of him.

"You called, Wizard?" he wheezed, forcing an exhausted smile to his furry features. Oscar quirked an eyebrow.

"Why such a commotion?" He inquired. Finley dropped the smile.

"You did hear about Lady Glinda's proclamation about apprentices, right?"

Oscar fought hard to keep his expression on top of his quickly resurfacing self pity and angst. He nodded as an answer. Finley sighed exhaustedly.

"Well, Knuck-"

"Sourpuss?" Oscar cut in, aiming for his general lighthearted annoying of the Munckin. Finley dismissed him, clearly not in the mood to grovel to his whims. Of course, the monkey's idea of not groveling seemed to be very light compared to Oscar's own opinion of not groveling, so it had little effect.

"Knuck said he found a few girls who were willing and qualified to become Lady's apprentice, and he has them waiting outside for her."

Oscar shrugged. "I don't see the problem yet, so get to it."

Finley made a disgruntled groaning noise. "Would you just listen to me for a minute, seriously?" When Oscar did not interrupt him again, he continued his train of thought.

"So Knuck sent me upstairs to go get her. She's refusing to come out of the common room and chambers - she has the doors bolted shut - , and yelled something through the door about a massive headache. We don't know what to do. Wizard, please, what do we do?"

Oscar put a finger to his chin thoughtfully. He refused to dote on the fact that Glinda's health was, from the sound of it, declining, therefore muffling the uprising angst that persisted in crippling him.

"I'll help you all out. If you'll give me a minute, I can interview the girls myself, if she can't." At Finley's resulting look, Oscar raised his hands indignantly. "What?" he exclaimed. "I'm the Wizard, and you don't think I can pick people's apprentices for them? Don't doubt me so much, honestly."

Finley shrugged slightly.

"Well, normally it's kind of a strict thing that witches and wizards must pick their own apprentice," he said worriedly, "But I suppose since you're the Wizard, it's okay."

Oscar grinned in an almost too cheerful manner.

"Great, so go send in the girls, and I'll go to my projector room, and everything will be just fine."

A few minutes later, the ominous, smoking projection was surveying three girls, dressed head to toe in black, including thick black cowls that did not allow Oscar to see any of their facial features. He found this slightly disconcerting.

"Speak your names," he boomed, adding the imperiousness of short sentences. They always seemed to both frighten and encourage people, he had learned, as a carnival magician anyway. The first, one of average height, spoke with a rather squeaky voice.

"My name is Janaye!" she chirped, her tone optimistic. This already got on Oscar's nerves. He turned his gaze to the next one, a girl of tall, voluptuous build. Her voice fit her body type; rich and smooth.

"My name is Denique," she spoke, her voice resonating through the room with almost as much power and command as Oscar, in his projectory emphasis, had. He nodded approvingly. He assumed a powerful apprentice would be easier to work with than a meek one, and this Denique girl seemed like the former type. The last girl, so draped in dark fabric that it was impossible to tell anything of her physique, spoke up with a hesitant, lilting voice that struck a chord in Oscar's faint memory. Where had he heard that voice before?

"My name is Anneliese," she whispered. Oscar sighed to himself. The cowls were really psyching him out. Maybe he was being paranoid, but he had a lurking feeling that maybe Theodora or Evanora was hiding under all that black.

"Please remove your headdress...thingies," he stated lamely, unsure of what to call them, lest he mess up a term. The first girl, Janaye, began to protest.

"But it is tradition that we-"

"Does it look like I am worrying about tradition?" Oz asked silkily, trying to make his tone almost threatening. True to form, both Janaye and Denique removed their cowls, revealing a dark brown mess of curls on the former and a cascading waterfall of chestnut waves on the latter. Only the third hesitated, her fingers trembling. Oscar watched her for a moment, and when he was satisfied that the cowl, however slowly, was coming off, he asked almost conversationally to the three,

"Do any of you go by nicknames, things you would rather be called than your birth names?"

The first two shook their heads, but the third nodded. As the last layer of gauzy fabric fell off of her face, Oscar's jaw dropped.

"Some people call me Annie."

~O~

"You WHAT?"

Finley winced at the harsh tone coming from the other side of the door. The cruelty sounded terrible on The Good Witch of the South's kind and gentle voice.

"We asked the Wizard to take care of your apprentice selection, since you weren't feeling up to it," he cowered, despite the fact that he was safely behind a thick door.

Meanwhile, in the common room, a crashing sound was heard.

"Are you alright, Lady?" he questioned, his voice trembling slightly.

"No, I am not!" a screeching answer resounded, causing the little monkey to flinch. "I cannot believe this! Ugh!" Another crashing sound was heard. And suddenly the door Finley was pressed against gave in, and opened. Finley poked his head in, still fearful. The room was a wreck, as if a tornado had torn through it. The witch presumed to have caused the disruption was collapsed in a heap in the center of the wreckage, and the room was icy cold. Finley could see his breath as he scampered over to her.

"Lady?" he queried, his voice full on shaking like a leaf in a gale. She looked up at him, her hazel eyes filled with tears.

"More Gillikin maidens waltzing in," she whimpered, "More to see, more to near, more to attract away."

Finley looked confused, and rightly so; the Good Witch was absolutely incoherently babbling away about things he had no way to comprehend.

"What, milady, do you mean by that?" he finally asked. Her forehead wrinkled, as if she were puzzled. Lifting a hand to her head, she spoke dazedly,

"What do I mean by what?"

When the flying monkey was absolutely too confused to respond, she made her way to her feet, shaking unsteadily.

"My head hurts...I...I think I should go to bed."

As if in a trance, the witch walked to her chamber door, and closed it quietly behind her. Finley stood in the wreckage, staring after her.

"What was that?" he asked himself. There was nobody to answer him.

(Hehe...I have so many evil ideas. Anyone want to try and guess them, or possibly what some things signified? That would make me very very happy...)


	8. Chapter 8

(Insert maniacal laughter here. I really was interested in getting some predictions! Ah well. They're always welcome! I don't own Oz, the Great and Powerful, despite my passionate desire to.)

"...Have we met before?"

The great projection faced the girl, now solitary in the throne room. Janaye and Denique had been instantaneously dismissed with no degree of formality, resulting in an insulted glare in Oscar's projectory direction. This did not faze him. He was much too occupied.

The girl who stood in front of his projection shook her head, her blonde curls bouncing slightly, her voice trembling under his gaze.

"No, sir, I don't think so."

Oscar rubbed his eyes and blinked a few times.

"Annie," he ventured, his voice threatening to snap at the familiarity of the name in accordance to the features, "I think you would be perfect for Lady Glinda as her apprentice. Congratulations."

The girl Annie's face perked up, a tentative smile on her face that made Oscar's heart skip only slightly. True, she was clearly a mere girl as opposed to a woman; seventeen or eighteen, not quite as developed facially as the Annie he had left behind. Oscar still recognized her as clear as day, as the girl he had spent his entire childhood with. Annie from Kansas stood in front of him, complete with the nervous yet friendly expression of meeting someone new and the pure warmth emanating from her. Oscar could almost see it, as if it were a tangible thing.

"Thank you so much, most kind and gracious Wizard! I shall do my very best to please Lady Glinda," Annie said, her smile bringing a similar one to Oscar's face.

"I know you will. Now return to your family, let them know of your apprenticeship. I shall have someone notify you when Glinda the Good is ready for you."

Oscar didn't understand how Annie's family could be in Oz, or how Annie was in Oz in the first place. He wondered if she had brought them, her mother and father and older brother, somehow.

"I shall do that instantly! Oh, I cannot wait," she gushed. "I have two aunts, my mother's sisters, that are my guardians," she added, "My parents died long ago. Oh, they'll be so pleased with my accomplishment! I had thought that they were going to disown me if I didn't do something worthwhile, such as this!"

With that, the girl scurried out the door.

~O~

Only minutes later, Oscar staggered out of the booth, blinking rapidly in pure confusion. How was Annie here? This couldn't be possible. Could it? After all, he had gotten to Oz. Maybe she had tried to follow him. It was an entertaining and slightly flattering notion. As he mulled over this strange new development, his mind was too befuddled to realize that he was walking up the many ascending, spiral and vertical and diagonal staircases to reach the common room, which was still, to his belief, locked and occupied. When he found himself in front of the clearly not locked door (judging from the slight opening that led Oscar to acknowledge that it was partially open), he shook himself. Why was the door open? Had Glinda felt well enough to leave? For a moment, he was tempted to search the castle, feeling as if he had just missed her leaving, but decided to check the common room first.

Opening the door all the way, Oscar almost crashed into a particularly violent and savage looking chunk of glass half the size of him wedged in the floor. With a quick scan of the room, he noticed just how...precise everything seemed to be placed. The glass seemed to stick up like the pointy rocks in the ground - Oscar didn't know the term, geology had never been quite his speed - in a complete circle, followed by a slightly smaller ring inside made up of smaller chunks of upwards reaching glass, and another ring of pure glass dust, all coated with a thick layer of broken, splintered wood. This did not seem like pure coincidence.

Stepping over many obstacles, Oscar scampered through the rings of death and first checked his own personal chambers, more out of habit than wont. Besides, he did not like the idea of sleeping on his throne; making sure his chambers were intact was a priority. Luckily for him, all seemed undisturbed. The bed was just as he had left it: unmade and wrinkled terribly. The wardrobe and surfaces were just as he had left it: askew, dusty, and in complete and utter chaos. Although, he noted, as he spun around once in a survey, something seemed off. As if something was missing.

After another few minutes of close scrutiny, he figured it out. His one photograph was gone. No wonder his room had seemed only just slightly out of whack; the picture was probably the one thing that signified it was his chambers as opposed to someone else's.

The photo, aged a few years, something he had always kept where ever he had gone, was missing from his dusty dresser, leaving a vacant, clean spot amidst the clutter. The photo was special to his heart, not like any other photo he had taken or seen, or possessed.

The picture of a nineteen year old Oscar, and a seventeen year old Annie, smiling together for the world to see.

(Hmm, suspicious...Where has Oscar's photo gone, and does this have any relevance to the new Annie who's popped up? Would you guys prefer short chapters and many updates, medium chapters and medium updates, or long chapters and tedious updates? I'd like to hear your input. Although I can't resist writing like a crazy person for this story.

REMEMBER, I would seriously love to hear some predictions/guesses/accusations/etcetera on what you think is going on in Oz! *sings* Something bad's, happening in Oz! Under the surface, behind the scenes!)


	9. Chapter 9

**(*cries* I love you all. One review I recently read of this stood out in particular to me.**

**"Oh. My. God. you did not! :O that had to be one of the most intense chapters I have ever read. i'm like...shaking as im typing this.. Wahhhh! SOO MANY FEELS! You better update soon! I don't know how i'll be able to live with the wait for too long!"**

**Gah. It's reviews like this that give me the courage and the inspiration to continue writing. I love these people, and so I'm going to give a big shoutout to ViCtOrIoUsGaL41882 for such an absolutely lovely review that really made my day.**

**Now, onwards with this crazy story that I love so much! I still don't own the rights to Oz the Great and Powerful. Just a clarification :P) HERE COMES YOUR AWAIITED OZINDA. It's short. But sweet. Good things don't last in this world.)**

Oscar woke from what he had expected to be a very fitful sleep by a lovely sound that he hadn't actually heard since he had left Kansas. The sound was soft and sweet, and unlike some other variations of the particular sound he had heard in his day, this one was a blessing to his ears. He found himself smiling at the pleasant sound.

It was singing.

His mind fumbled over this like a drunken flying monkey trying to catch a banana. Singing. So pretty. If he were a girl, he'd probably sing. Wait. What girl was singing? The Wizard of Oz's eyes flew open to see his still messy bedchambers, and found he had fallen asleep in his tuxedo. Hopping to his feet, he lurched slightly to the doorway, his head spinning from the sudden blood rush. Poking his head out the door, his jaw dropped.

There once had been a very frail looking, pale looking, sick, terrified witch who was trying to quash everything by being stoic about her pains. She could barely look Oscar in the eye. She was growing skinnier by the day, as if eating had lost all value for her. This witch was not the witch Oscar had seen before.

Glinda the Good paused her singing, her lips creasing into the beautiful, gentle smile Oscar had missed in the past week. Gliding towards him, her eyes sparkling with the pure goodness she embodied, she stopped in front of him and curtsied slightly. She did not look terrified, skinny, and pale. This Glinda looked like the quintessence of health. But how could that be?

"Good morning, Wizard," she said, her voice cracking only slightly, as if she had not had anything to drink yet that morning. Oscar was confused, yes. But a tiny nagging voice in his head planted a terrible, growing seed of ideas. Maybe, he thought, maybe the illness and the past few days all together had been a dream? Maybe, he thought, a smile spreading to his face, maybe Glinda was just fine, and nobody was dying, and he was hallucinating severely! That must be it, he confirmed, that was the only plausible explanation.

"Good morning, Glinda," he replied, giving her a little bow in return as a response to her curtsy, which he did have to admit was a bit odd. But, Oscar reasoned, maybe she did that normally. If this had all been a dream, they had kissed yesterday, and that meant...A cocky grin creased his face. He stepped a little closer. As if on cue, a slight shimmer of pink crept up into her cheeks, and she looked up into his eyes, biting on her lip slightly in a way that Oscar found extremely attractive. A feeling of victory filled him. He still had Glinda. Glinda wasn't going to die. She wasn't terrified and logical and scary. Everything was going to be just fine.

On that note, he pressed his lips to hers. She gasped a little, startled, but he could feel her soft, warm lips pull up into a smile before her arms were wrapped gently around his neck and she was kissing him back.

Of course, as if someone had been waiting for this exact moment, a knock thudded violently at the door. Oscar felt like throwing a tantrum worthy of China Girl, who he hadn't seen in a while. His features arranged themselves into an exasperated look as Glinda slowly, awkwardly pulled away from him and putting a few feet of distance between them, her face likened to the color of a torch and her hands obsessively adjusting her dress and her hair, as if the short kiss had somehow tarnished her appearance forever. It was cute, Oscar noticed, and he scowled at whoever was in the door way.

Oscar could barely resist a laugh at the absolute expression of startledness on Finley's mug. Glinda giggled and drifted into her chambers and shut the door, to get changed out of what Oscar belatedly realized was a rather thin, albeit floor length long sleeved nightgown. He berated himself slightly for missing the view, although another part of him internally slapped himself for thinking about taking advantage of Glinda's 'wardrobe malfunction'.

"How-what?" Finley sputtered. Oz chuckled at his expression.

"What do you mean?"

Finley huffed shockedly.

"She wasn't like that yesterday. Yesterday she was babbling about apprentices and attractions-"

Oscar interrupted him, the color draining from his face.

"What? That was real?"

Finley nodded, an expression of solemn awareness creeping over his features.

"I think..."

Oscar prodded him. "You think what?"

"I think Lady's having some memory problems."

(Short, sweet, I'm done for tonight!)


	10. Chapter 10

"I can't believe this," Oscar grumbled, the clamor of life bustling around him. "I finally get a good thing and then I learn that it's only the effects of amnesia."

Finley glared at him from his perch on the arm of the throne Oscar sat in.

"Don't talk about Lady Glinda like she's something to be won. If she ever heard that, she'd be quite angry at you, no matter what she remembered. I'm pretty sure it's ingrained into her that respect is the key to everything."

Oscar sighed.

"It seems as if everything is getting screwed up, and I can't figure out how to stop it without screwing even more up," he said, his voice tired. "But I still have to do something anyway, you know?"

Finley made a dismissive noise. Oscar turned to him and looked at him puzzledly. "What are you laughing at?"

Finley shrugged his little shoulders, a wry smile on his face. "You're finally getting it. This is what it feels like to have the wight of a kingdom on your shoulders. This is what it feels like to have tens of thousands of people depending on you. This is what it feels like to be a king, Oscar."

Oscar groaned and leaned back in his throne. "Why did I agree to do this again, Monkey?"

Finley responded, his tone dry, "Because you wanted to help the people, and the people wanted you."

Oscar turned to Finley, a slight smile on his lips.

"You know, Monkey, you're not so bad to talk to when all's said and done."

This would have been a very touching moment, but Finley, his expression quickly turning troubled, spoke.

"I need to tell you something...It could help us figure out what's going on with Lady Glinda..."

Oscar leaned forward, his attention on the monkey.

"Speak, monkey, speak."

* * *

Glinda's expression was quite disconcerted. She did not enjoy the feeling of being abandoned to her lonesome, even if it was the Wizard doing it. She knew her thoughts were one of a petulant teenager, but she could still think them. If anything, her thoughts were her own. This gave her an idea. Disregarding the shuffling noise she could hear, she marchedo out of her room to see the common room as quiet as a mouse. Sitting down at her desk, she pulled open the drawer and started to rummage through the many many pages stacked on top of each other.

After many minutes, she came up with everything but what she was searching for. Groaning, she pulled out a blank sheet of paper and resignedly began to write on it, using her dainty calligraphy pen usually reserved for signing documents. Today felt like a day to write and feel official about it.

"...Oh, no, that's not right," Glinda murmured under her breath, her forehead wrinkled with displeasure. This pen was giving her a headache; usually when she wrote documents with it, everything had to be precise. And if it were her journal, things shouldn't have to be precise.

Snatching up her flamboyantly feathered quill and discarding the calligraphy pen to the side almost carelessly, she dipped it into the ruby red ink and scratched a few more sentences into the page, the words flowery and seemingly embroidered; it was so artistic.

_Dear Journal,_

_I have actually misplaced the real copy of you, so I'm using a scrap of paper instead, which I will bind into your pages later, or possibly rewrite. As of late, I feel like I'm missing something. I do not think I have anything to worry about, I mean, my health is as good as ever, the Wizard has saved us all, and he's rather charming, although I think it's in a good way. My life seems intact: Good health, happy kingdom, and possibly happy heart. Yes, I realize I have never attempted romance of any sort, but why not start now, in this time of peace and harmony? After all, it isn't like I have a time limit._

_I do not have a whole lot to say on this day to you, Journal, but I do have the puzzling question of what I'm missing. It feels like something has been erased. Like I've overlooked something. But no matter. I suppose in the heat of the moment, which everything around me seems to be stuck in at the time, I could have missed something in all the commotion. Yes, I suppose I'm being quite silly. Disregard I said that whole paragraph. It is unnecessary. Being foolish and dwelling on tiny things can't get anyone anywhere._

Putting down the pen, a thought occurred to Glinda. Where was that wizard? Was he doing what he was supposed to be doing? Was he making a mess out of all of her hard work? Although a small part of her mind told her that it was just a way for her to talk to him, she ignored it, letting a pretty smile spread across her face as she stuck the piece of paper into her desk and emerged from the common room.

As she was about to close the door, she heard a slight sound, a sigh, maybe? Unsure that she had actually heard something, she opened the door once more, looking back in and surveying the room. Not a sound was made. Her eyes suspicious, she closed the door, but pressed her ear to the crack. All was still. Satisfied, Glinda distanced herself from the common room, her tiny feet trip-trip-trip tropping like a dainty pony's down the many stairs to search for the Wizard.

**(Oooh, mysterious! Is there someone in the common room? I did give you hints throughout the chapter, so if you think you've pieced it together, tell me in a review! :D**

**By the way, I'll be starting a new fanfiction soon, if any of you are interested. It's Oz related, and it's basically my theory about the land of Oz in general mixed in with some depressing Annie/Oscar. It's gonna be extremely sad, hopefully. I hope you'll all read it when I've posted it! **

**But for now, you have No Good Deed Goes Unpunished, which is my greatest feat of fanfiction yet. ZIMZALABIM.**

**Please go check out the poll in my profile page and vote!) **


	11. 11: CLARIFICATIONS

I'm upset with myself. Because I didn't want to have to explain what was going on in the story to you guys, and I have to now because I wrote the story too confusing for you all. I'm going to make this short. None of this is your fault; don't think I'm blaming you. I'm blaming me.

So Glinda is having memory loss. That is why Oz is so upset in the most recent chapter; because he didn't win her over truly, or get the benefit of it being a dream. She honestly has no recollection of anything happening between her and Oz that was bad, and she does not remember her illness either. She's back to the day where her and Oz kissed in the projection room.

That seems to be what's stumping all of you, and even if you think "Aw, Waves Crash, this totally ruined the story! You should have just explained it in story context!", I think personally this is the best thing to do, because by the time I explain something fully in story context, it could be chapter 20.

Thank you for bearing with me. If you are totally stupified (as in, "I have no idea what's going on", not as in "ooh, I wonder what's going to happen next") just let me know and I'll try and explain it to you. This fanfiction is meant for enjoyment, so I want you, the readers to be able to understand what I'm saying and enjoy it.

Thank you.

Sincerely,

Waves Crash


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